Chapter 17

Rielle’s POV

It’s been days since I’ve been putting up the professional act with Zayden.

And it’s killing me.

Every time I walk into his office with files, pretending nothing’s wrong, pretending my heart doesn’t twist when our eyes meet — it feels like I’m slowly losing a piece of myself.

He’s different now. Colder. Not the man who made pancakes and smiled at me like I was the only thing that mattered. No. This version of him barely looks up from his laptop, his tone clipped and formal.

Maybe that’s what I deserve.

My life has been going in circles — work, silence, sleepless nights.

And then there’s Dante.

God, Dante.

He’s been trying to make advances on me again, sending message after message. “I miss you.” “We were good together.” “Let’s talk.”

The audacity.

A part of me — a small, foolish part — thought about replying.

Not because I missed him. I didn’t. But maybe because I wanted to feel like I mattered to someone.

Maybe because some stupid, wounded part of me wanted to get a reaction from Zayden

But I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t use someone just to get to him.

And yet… would he even care?

Would he care if Dante showed up here tomorrow and took me out to lunch? If he wrapped his arm around me where everyone could see?

I doubt it.

Zayden has completely buried himself in work.

Meetings. Calls. Trips. Deadlines. Anything and everything to keep busy.

We barely speak now — just the bare minimum. Yes, Mr. Wolfe. The documents are ready, Mr. Wolfe. Have a good evening, Mr. Wolfe.

It’s pathetic how much I still look forward to hearing his voice.

Sometimes I catch him looking at me, though. Just for a second — his gaze lingers, softens, like he’s about to say something. But then he always looks away.

And I hate that.

I hate how much I want him to look again.

I sat at my desk, trying to focus on emails, when Dante appeared in my doorway with two coffee cups.

“Peace offering,” he said, holding one out. “Caramel macchiato, extra shot, just how you like it.”

I stared at the cup, memories flooding back. Saturday mornings at our favorite café. His hand in mine, that was before everything fell apart.

“Dante, I don’t think….”

“Just coffee, Rielle and five minutes of your time. Please….i’ll be out of your hair after that”

Against my better judgment, I took the cup. “Five minutes.”

He sat across from my desk, his expression earnest. “I know I don’t deserve another chance, I know I fucked up in the worst possible way but seeing you again it reminded me of everything I lost.”

“You didn’t lose me, you threw me away. You didn’t know what you had and you lost it”

“I know.” He leaned forward. “I was an idiot. Sabotaged the best thing in my life because I was scared of how much I felt for you, classic self destructive behavior.”

“That’s a convenient excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse, It’s an explanation.” His eyes held mine.

“I’ve been in therapy, Rielle. Dealing with my issues, I’m not the same person I was six months ago.”

I wanted to laugh or to throw the coffee in his face but a small part of me, the part that had loved him once, wondered if people could really change.

“That’s great for you,” I said carefully. “But it doesn’t change what happened.”

“I know, I’m not asking you to forgive me overnight. I’m just asking for a chance to show you I’m differe, we could start as friends with coffee. We will take it slow”

Friends…right before I could respond, my phone buzzed. A text from Zayden “My office, now”

I stood. “I have to go.”

“Think about it?” Dante pressed. “Just coffee, what could be the harm?”

What was the harm? It could be everything and at the same time it could be nothing.

“I’ll think about it,” I heard myself say.

His smile was triumphant, and as I walked to Zayden’s office, I felt a twist of unease. What was I doing? Playing games? Trying to prove something?

When I walked into Zayden’s office, I could tell immediately he knew.

The way his hand stilled on the mouse, the way his gaze didn’t quite meet mine. Calm. Too calm.

“I saw Dante in your office,” he said finally, voice even.

“He brought coffee,” I replied, testing the water.

“Coffee,” he echoed. “How thoughtful.”

There it was a flicker in his tone, too sharp to be casual.

He was jealous. He’d never admit it, but I saw it.

The way his jaw tightened, the slight pause before he spoke again.

“Didn’t realize the two of you were still close.”

“We’re not,” I said. “He just showed up.”

“Right.” He nodded slowly. “And you just happened to take the coffee.”

“Zayden, it was one cup of coffee. You’re acting—”

“I’m not acting like anything,” he interrupted, leaning back in his chair, that calm mask sliding back into place. “You can have coffee with whoever you want.”

“Sure doesn’t sound like that.”

He gave a low laugh, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You really think I’m jealous?”

“I think you’re trying very hard not to be.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable like he was fighting with himself and losing. Then he stood, moving around the desk until he was right in front of me.

“If I wanted to be jealous, Rielle,” he said quietly, “I’d have a reason to be.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He exhaled slowly, gaze dropping to my mouth before lifting back to my eyes.

“This—” his hand gestured between us, “—whatever it is, doesn’t come with rules. Or titles. You don’t owe me explanations.”

Something twisted in my chest. “That’s what you think this is? Whatever it is?”

He shrugged. “You said it yourself once. We’re not serious. We just… fit.”

“Fit,” I repeated, the word tasting bitter. “You mean we have sex.”

He didn’t look away. “Yes. We do.”

It hit harder than I expected, the indifference in his voice, the way he said it like it meant nothing.

Like I meant nothing.

I forced a smile. “Good to know where I stand.”

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?” I snapped. “Expect you to care?”

His jaw clenched. “I never said I didn’t care.”

“But you won’t say you do either.” I took a step closer. “You just hide behind control and pretend this is casual.”

He stayed still, eyes locked on mine. The silence between us was a pulse heavy, charged.

“Rielle,” he said finally, tone low, almost rough. “You knew what this was from the start.”

“No,” I said. “I knew what you wanted it to be. You wanted control. No mess, no feelings, no risk. But guess what? That’s not how this works. You don’t get to touch me like that and act like it’s nothing.”

He stared at me, expression unreadable but his throat moved as he swallowed, and that told me everything.

“Then maybe you should stop letting me touch you,” he said, the words sharp but unsteady at the edges.

For a moment, the room was silent.

Then I stepped back, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I should.”

Something flickered in his eyes.. regret, panic, something too human for him to admit.

But just as quickly, it was gone.

“Close the door on your way out,” he said softly.

And that was the thing about Zayden.

He could look at me like he wanted me, breathe me in like air and still say things designed to make me walk away first.

So I did.

But as the door clicked shut, I knew he was still standing there, fists clenched, fighting every instinct to run after me.